Back to square one
by Duckgomery
Summary: Gilbert hadn't left in the best manner, leaving many unanswered questions and hurt feelings behind. Returning years later, will he be forgiven by those who'd loved him in the past, and what had he been doing in those missing years? Eventual PruCan
1. Beginning of the end

He looked to his blonde haired companion, silently asking for reassurance, knowing once he took this step there would be no going back. His companion, knowing how anxious he was, reached over, squeezing his hand in a reassuring manner, "C'mon Gil, this'll be awesome" he voiced, barely more than a whisper, though still audible to the other boy. With a chuckle, he relaxed, ever so slightly.

It was weird for him to see the once familiar streets and buildings. he never thought he'd come back, or that he'd be welcomed back, with the way he left and all. for the first time in a long time he wondered how everyone was, whether they'd changed. he knew that he'd changed, for better or for worse, would they except him still?

While he was musing to himself, he failed to realise the vehicle had come to a stop. Concerned eyes met his own, snapping him out of his previous thoughts, "Don't worry Birdie, I'll be fine" he said with a smile, the blonde let out a weary sigh, "I know Gil, you always are." they sat in silence before they unanimously agreed that enough was enough, exiting the car and making their way up to the house. It was time to make his awesome presence known to this town all over again.


	2. First stop

With a smile, Gilbert stepped out of the bustling building, taking in a deep breath of foreign air. After being cooped up on a plane for god knows how many hours, there was nothing as refreshing as having a lung full of unfiltered air. He hitched his duffel bag higher on his shoulder before making his way over to the cabs, all the while keeping an ear out for other peoples destinations, hoping to catch someone willing to go halves on the fare, he was limited funds as it were.

After a half an hour cab journey, shared with tall, intimidating figure who reminded him of his father, who introduced himself as Berwald, the teen exited the vehicle and found him-self walking through the streets of Copenhagen.

Denmark wasn't his first choice in country to run off to, but hell, it was the cheapest flight leaving at the time. Though looking around himself, he'd have to admit it wasn't that bad, it reminded him of Germany, when he'd lived there as a young child.

With a bounce in his step, he set of down one of the streets, taking in the sights, familiarising himself with the streets, observing the locals. It was the same and yet so different to what he was accustomed to in the states, and he wasn't sure if he appreciated that or not. For one thing, familiarities were always comforting, but then the whole idea of running off to Europe was to be submerged in the foreign.

His previous good mood vanished as his thoughts drifted to the other continent, wondering how everybody was doing and how long it would take the lot of them to realise he wasn't there. "Fuck this," he mumbled to himself, "I need a drink." He scanned the alien words, attempting to find something that could be interpreted as a bar. As the day turned to early evening, and the nightlife started to make their way onto the streets, he managed to find himself a bar of sorts, Thor's Flagon. Upon entering he ordered a whisky, which he downed on the spot, then grabbed a pint before taking a seat.

By the early hours of the morning, Gilbert had managed to befriend a local Dane, a boisterous blonde named Mathias Køhler, and subsequently found a place to crash for how eve long he wished to quote Mathias. As final call was sounded, the Dane lead him back to his place, a small flat that just reeked of bachelor, clothing and empty beer cans scattered across most surfaces, a well-loved couch wedged into the small living room. "After placing his bag down and taking a seat on the couch, the blonde returned from the kitchen nook, a six pack tucked under each arm. As he took a seat next to Gilbert, he handed one of them to the pale teen, before cracking one of his own open, "To my new roomie," he happily slurred, "Cheers." Gilbert chimed, as they clumsily smashed their cans together, sloshing the contents all over themselves.

Over the next couple of months, the two of them became great friends. After the first couple of weeks, Gilbert had managed to find temporary at the coffee shop that Mathias worked at, due to an employee being away for a couple of months. As far as he was concerned, the money he managed to pull in was plenty for him to get by on, doing his part to chip in on the rent and groceries.

As the seasons changed though, it became a tad too cold for Gilbert's comfort. Not wanting to intrude any longer, and with the fact that the vacationing employee was due back in a week or two, He told Mathias of his plans to move on. After a night of drinking and a teary, yet totally manly, farewell, with the promise of keeping in contact with the other, Mathias dropped Gilbert at the train station and the two parted ways.


	3. In which the wheel starts turning

Another Chapter for you lovely readers out there. Things are starting to get moving, and as you can tell from this chapter, it's getting longer and there is actual dialouge, WHAT IS THIS!

We mat be leaving Mathias in Denmark for now, but do not fret, for Old Fritz himself is making his appearance in this chapter. I don't mean for him to come across as a pedo or anything, I just wanted to establish a friendly, playful relationship between the two of them, no homo.

Enjoy and a reminder that I don't own anything

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><p><em>"The first step in any journey is always the largest"<em>

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months since Gilbert had left Mathias. Though the money he had earnt whilst in Denmark made things a lot more comfortable for him, it wasn't long til even that grew low and Gilbert had to find work again.

It was funny, in the time he spent country hopping, he'd managed to hold down more jobs than he had ever could back home. He mostly only got temporary or low paying work, and he didn't care, as long as it was enough to keep him fed and sleeping somewhere warm.

The rout he took across Europe was very scattered, often back tracking or taking giant leaps, due to the fact that he had no plan, just going where his mood dictated. If he felt like a croissant he made his way to France, warmer weather and down to Italy or Spain.

Having no roots tying him down had made Gilbert the happiness he had been in years. Acting on whims, getting decent accommodation through Mathias' contacts, he'd even had a few flings. Things were just working out. No one was lecturing him about his actions, or demanding he pick a path in life. He didn't have to worry about whether or not he got accepted into a decent university or what career he'd inevitably land himself in. It was just him and his duffle-bag, the conquerors of Europe.

He rolled of the bed, and pulled on some clothes, getting ready for a new job he'd managed to land in Austria. He didn't know what exactly entitled so he just went with a long-sleeved graphic shirt, with an un-buttoned shirt draped on top of his willowy frame, paired with some of his un-ripped jeans. Satisfied that this ensemble would be appropriate for whatever it was he was doing, he pulled on a scarf and made his way to the address he'd scrawled down earlier that week.

After asking for directions, and a brief sprint on realising the time, Gilbert pulled up the pair of wrought iron gates, a beautifully landscaped campus stretching beyond it. He hurried to the Administration building after asking a group of students who were among the number of those milling about, who were more than happy to escort him to the building themselves.

Upon speaking to one of the ladies working there, and a brief call to one of the faculty members, presumably the one that had hired him, the teen was given a map of the campus, instructions on how to reach his intended destination written neatly to the side.

After thanking the woman for her time and help, he made his way outside again, locating the building. After making his way through the wide corridors, walls adorned with paintings and photographs of anything and everything he reached the room he was supposed to be in. Hearing the unmistakable sound of chatter emitting from the other side of the door, Gilbert brought his clenched fist to the wooden surface and knocked before pulling the door open.

He wasn't too sure what he'd expected on the other side, but a room full of canvas' in various stages of completion, paints and other materials scattered across floor and tables alike, was not what he'd expected. Noticing his entrance, a middle-aged man made his way over, "why hello there, you must be the young man I hired, right?" he happily enquired, having halted his progress and standing in front of Gilbert, "Yep, that's me. Gilbert Beilschmidt, at your service" he responded cheerfully clasping the other man's extended hand.

"Good to know, I'm Frederik, and this," he positioned the young man so he was standing at the centre of a semi-circle of easels, a student beside each one, "is my Art class that you'll be modelling for" he finished.

"Good to finally know what I'll be doing," Gilbert responded in good humour, "Though I must say that I'm not too sure what exactly I have to do for that," he finished, chuckling nervously. To this, Frederik smiled, laugh lines crinkling with the action, "It's pretty easy, you just have to stand on that podium and look handsome, shouldn't be too hard for a strapping young lad like yourself now should it." The older man added a playful wink to the end of his explanation.

Gilbert only had to come into class a few times a week, and the pay was decent enough that he didn't have to work another job simultaneously, which he was thankful for. The times he was at class was full of playful banter between the professor and the students, an overall comfortable atmosphere. Old Fritz, as Gilbert had taken to calling him, had even been kind enough to offer a room at his house, saying it was only good for gathering dust if Gilbert didn't take him up on his offer.

The nights were spent in pleasant discussion about art, music, the sights of Europe and German beer, which according to Fritz, was the only beer worth drinking, and Gilbert, not wanting to appear rude, took this philosophy under his belt. During his stay, he grew comfortable and relaxed, easily getting along with a lot of the university students and faculty alike.

When he told Mathias that he had gotten a modelling job at an art college, they both laughed. When you met the eccentric youth, model was one of the last things that came to mind, not being built like the Adonis' that were generally type casted as being of the male model variety. After staying up til the early hours of the morning about whatever came to mind, the two would turn in for the night.

As the semester drew to an end, the university held an open exhibition, to showcase the various artworks that students had produced over the course of the semester or year. It was a mix crowd, from the friends and family of the students involved, there to offer their support and congratulations, people interested in buying some of the works, even big shots from various industries were there, eager to snatch up new talents before anyone else could get their hands on them.

One of these big shots, upon looking at the portraits, saw potential in the subject, and after a bit of asking around, found out the name of said subject.

The next day, Gilbert was roused from slumber by his phone's ringtone blaring out. Groggily he pulled it towards him and fumbled around to answer whoever it was that decided to waking up. "'Lo, Gilbert here," he yawned, rolling onto his back as the voice on the other end responded, "Hello Gilbert, I'm Sadiq Adnan, head photographer of the magazine Euro-walk, a small fashion magazine. "Came an accented voice, "I was at an exhibition last night, and came across numerous portraits of you, and what can I say kid, you've got potential and I liked to help you reach it. So what do you say?"

Realising that the older man was waiting for his answer, he spluttered out a response, "S-Sure, that'd be great" he answered automatically, "That's great kid," Sadiq replied, "If that's the case, when's the soonest you can come in, I'd just like to go over some things with you, and meet you in person of course."

"Any time's good with me sir, whatever works best for you I guess," He sat up now, running his hands through his hair as Sadiq ran over a meeting time and place for later that afternoon, before he hung up. A Goofy smile worked its way onto his face as he walked out of his room, down to the kitchen where Fritz was sitting with a cup of coffee, paper sprawled out in front of him.

Hearing the other's footsteps' approaching, the older man looked up, taking in the teen's excited face. "What's gotten you in such a good mood this early in the day?" he inquired, knowing that the young man living with him was far from the definition of morning person until he had a couple of cups of coffee to get him going. Gilbert spun around, a freshly brewed cup of the black liquid in his grasp, before plonking himself down on the seat opposite the house owner's own.

"I got a phone call" The fair headed boy replied cryptically, grin still plastered on his face. "Would you care to elaborate Gilbert my boy?" Frederik responded teasingly, "Was it someone special~" he cooed. The younger boy didn't miss a beat with his response, "Maybe~" before taking a long drink of the warm beverage.

Deciding to wait it out, knowing by now that Gilbert was anything but patient, especially when it came to juicy gossip which this was likely to be, the Art professor, finished his coffee and went back to reading the paper, noting how Gilbert was fidgeting in his peripheral vision. Any minute now.

"You know the Exhibition form last night?" Fritz smiled, knowing it was only a matter of time before the lad would have to speak. "Well a Sadiq Adnan saw the portraits the class did of me, said something about me having potential. I'm meeting with him later, said he's offering me a job at his magazine." He hurriedly finished.

A gentle smile easily made its place on Frederik's face, as he took in the hope and excitement on the youth's face. He felt happy for the boy, whose mood had been on the rise since they'd first met that day that now seemed so long ago.

"Just remember that when you're famous, to drop by and visit every now and then," he stated matter of factly, "Like I'd ever forget about my favourite old timer" he laughed, before getting up and getting ready for his meeting with the photographer.


End file.
